


Just Like Oysters

by AmeliaPonders



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, PWP, Sex Pollen, Trope Bingo Round 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1699187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaPonders/pseuds/AmeliaPonders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose, TenToo, eating an exotic dessert on an exotic planet. Yeah, it's going to get dirty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Oysters

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the porny stuff. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> * * *

It has been a perfect day. Rose and the Doctor’s home-grown TARDIS has only been operational for six months, and this is the farthest they’ve gone so far. Quistia 7 is a beautiful planet full of waterfalls tumbling into deep azure lakes, fields of bright wildflowers, and a friendly humanoid population who are experts at catering to the tourists who fuel their economy. The Doctor and Rose had aimed for the planet once before, back when he had two hearts, but ended up on Quistia 6 and fighting off giant, cranky shrew-like creatures that were offended by anyone bipedal.

But today, they make it to their intended destination, and after swimming under waterfalls, lots of kissing and touching under those same waterfalls, and a tram ride through a nature preserve filled with miniature giraffes and land octopi, they make their way back to their resort, which was also home to Quistia 7’s premiere restaurant. They watch the greenish sun dip below the horizon as they eat a gorgeous gourmet dinner. They talk about everything and nothing. They hold hands like teenagers, each gently stroking the other’s wedding ring because doing so is comforting, though neither admits this is the reason. This little trip has been the perfect break after a particularly hairy Torchwood mission last week, a mission in which they’d both come closer to dying than either would care to remember. Pete had insisted they take some time off after that, and they didn’t argue. Quistia 7 was the perfect getaway.

It’s time for dessert, though Rose would just as soon skip that and head back to their suite for the _real_ dessert, especially since they’ve been playing an increasingly indecent game of footsie for the last half hour. But the Doctor insisted she taste this Quistian delicacy he’d had 500 years ago. It was so good that he could still remember every bite and it was just heavenly and oh, Rose, you _must_ try it.

When dessert arrives, Rose tries to hide her disgust at this thing the Doctor was so eager for her to try. It looks like nothing she’d want to eat in a thousand years.

Sensing her reticence, the Doctor tells her to “just think of it like oysters.” He smirks a little and licks his lips, but Rose misses this, and at his mention of oysters, she can’t help but wrinkle her nose.

“Oysters are gross. Besides, this looks nothing like oysters. This is pink, foamy, cakey liquid…stuff.” It’s all she can do not to stick out her tongue in revulsion.

“Well yeah, but I assure you it’s delicious. And what I meant was, think about what oysters _do_ to people.”

“Give them food poisoning on a Year 10 trip to Blackpool so that the other kids call them ‘Toilet Bowl Tyler’ for a week?”

It’s the Doctor’s turn to wrinkle his nose. “Um, no,” and then, “Really? Toilet Bowl Tyler? They couldn’t think of anything better?”

Rose pouts. “It was still traumatic.”

The Doctor leans over to kiss away the pout. Rose instantly remembers why she had wanted to skip dessert in the first place and tries to deepen the kiss, but the Doctor pulls back. “As I was saying…oysters are rich in amino acids that trigger increased levels of sex hormones.” He waggles his eyebrows at her. “Not that you need any help with that, apparently.”

“Oi! You’re the one who started the whole footsie thing during the main course!”

He smiles and continues his train of thought. “Anyway, this dessert is supposed to have a similar effect. It’s made with the pollen of the drusia flower, which if ingested is supposedly the most powerful aphrodisiac in the entire Questian system. And if hormone levels are already increased, as they seem to be in you, Rose Tyler --”

She smacks him playfully as he leans in, just centimeters from her lips once again. “If hormone levels are already increased, well…it’s supposed to make things even _better_.” He practically growls the last word. Rose gasps.

He’s got the upper hand right now, or at least he thinks he does, which will him even more incorrigible if she doesn’t do something. So Rose looks him straight in the eye and says definitively, “All right, then. Down the hatch.” Without taking her eyes off him, she picks up the shot glass of odd pink goo, gulps it down in one swallow, and licks her lips dramatically. The Doctor’s gasp mirrors her own from moments ago.

He has no choice but to follow suit and down the pink stuff. A second later, they both reach for their water glasses, taking generous sips in an effort wash away the taste of the drusia flower dessert. “That,” the Doctor cries, “is _not_ how I remember that tasting.”

“I almost think I’d prefer an oyster,” Rose says with a frown.

They each look down to wipe their mouths with their napkins, and when their gazes meet again, something is very different.

The Doctor’s eyes widen as he takes in Rose’s dilated pupils, her harsh breathing, and that _look_ she’s giving him. He actually has to grip his chair to keep himself from launching across the table and taking her right there. They’d both been turned on already, but this…this is a level he’s never experienced before. His body almost hurts from the desire coursing through it, and from the look on Rose’s face, she’s having a similar reaction.

“The taste…I think…I may have failed to account for our human DNA here. Last time I had that dessert, I was a full Time Lord. Time Lords can control our…it’s not supposed to have this much of an effect…and certainly not this _fast_.” He almost chokes on the last word as Rose’s firm hand on his wrist sends a jolt of electricity surging through him.

“Pay the bill. Now.”

He fumbles around in his pocket, gets out four credit sticks, and throws them on the table. It’s like a 50% tip, but he’s always generous and math is beyond him at this point and Rose is pulling him into the hallway and now he’s shoved against the wall and oh _Rassilon_ her _lips_. He crashes his mouth against them, biting almost violently, but she gives as good as she gets as their hands begin to tear — literally tear — at each other’s shirts

The sound of a door closing next to his ear startles them enough to jump apart for a moment; Rose grabs the Doctor’s hand and they start jogging further down the corridor before whoever that was can say anything or follow them.

“Our room is down the next hall,” she pants. “Run faster.”

“I don’t think we’re going to make it,” the Doctor says as he pulls her back to him. Now she’s the one pinned against the wall and the clothes tearing begins anew. Once their shirts are completely ripped apart, the Doctor looks at Rose’s black bra with the white lacy bits and in a brief moment of clarity thinks of how sweet it was that she wore the one he likes best, even though she says it can get itchy. A millisecond later, he’s shoved the cup aside and taken her nipple into his mouth in a single, desperate movement.

Rose moans loudly. Far too loudly for a public hallway. “Oh, god, Doctor, this feels…ahhh.” He’s got the other nipple in his mouth now, and his fingers are kneading the first one in Just. The. Right. Way. She’s been raking her fingernails across his chest but now she strokes him through his trousers, half in retribution for driving her crazy with the sucking and half because it’s the thing she wants more than anything else right now.

This time it’s a _ding_ that briefly snaps them out of it. They separate as a family files out of the elevator, but what Rose and the Doctor have been doing is obvious enough that the mother covers her twelve-year-old son’s eyes as soon as she spots what he’s smiling at. Her glare at the couple is pure rage as she hurries her kids around the corner.

“Oh! She is brilliant!” the Doctor exclaims suddenly, hitching his thumb over his shoulder and indicating the spot where the angry mother just was.

“Excuse me?!” Rose is on fire, and the line between passion and anger can be so very fine sometimes.

“ _Ding_ , Rose. _Ding_!”

“Doctor, what the hell --”

But now he’s the one pulling her down the hall, just a few more feet, and then finally she gets it.

“The lift,” she whispers, practically awestruck.

 _Ding_.

The doors to the lift open and they dive inside. Mercifully, it’s empty; they really don’t check all that thoroughly before the groping begins again. It’s entirely by accident that Rose’s back hits the emergency stop button. The Doctor smiles when they feel the lift grind to a halt. “Smart girl.”

“Shut up.”

She sucks on his lip, then his neck, and presses against his erection as she works to get his belt off. Rose is wearing a dress and the Doctor is so grateful for easy access. She’s hitched her leg up and wrapped it around his back and just as she gets his belt off, he pushes her panties aside and slips two fingers inside her with no pretense. Rose gasps and so does the Doctor, because she’s gotten his trousers and pants down in one fell swoop and pumps his cock with quick, vigorous strokes.

“Fuck, Rose. Arrgh!” He grunts and then doubles the speed of his fingers pumping into her wetness, adding his thumb to her clit, causing her to whimper with pleasure.

“Doctor, inside me. Now. Please!”

Any other time he’d make her beg a little more. He likes that — they both do — but with the heat of the tiny lift and that dress of hers and the ridiculously enhanced hormones flowing through them, there’s no time for games. He pushes into her and instantly begins to move. They bite each other’s lips and claw at each other’s hair, touching anywhere and everywhere, addicted to every sensation.

Their bodies are shuddering and they each make strange, desperate noises from the intensity of it all. They’re both so close but the hormones are still too much.

“Rose,” cries the Doctor, “I need--”

“Yeah,” breathes Rose, “Me, too.”

“Okay,” he says as he presses their chests together to get them as close as possible. A few more moans as they each lift their fingers to the other’s temples. A few more thrusts and they come undone together, mind and body united.

Sometimes, having their minds bonded when they come can almost be too intense. One time, Rose just about fainted afterwards. But this time it was exactly the right thing. Their hormones seem to be returning to normal as they slide down the back wall of the lift, still tangled up in one another and trying to catch their breath. And then they’re laughing and crying all at once as the last surge of hormones hits them along with the realization of what just happened (and _where_ it just happened). After a moment, the exaggerated hormones dissipate and mix with the post-coital feel good ones. Rose cuddles against the Doctor’s chest as their breathing finally returns to normal. They undo the emergency stop and laugh some more.

The next day, they check out of the resort. The Doctor wordlessly slides twelve extra credit sticks to the scowling front desk person when he hands in their bill. Rose makes note of the date so that if they ever return to Quistia 7 in the TARDIS, it will be _before_ today.

A couple of months later, Rose is wrapping up a particularly trying day at Torchwood when she gets a delivery to her office. It’s a plant with wispy pink flowers she’s never seen before. She opens the card attached and reads it: _“Thought you could use a little lift. XX”_ She smiles. The Doctor has gotten really good at making her feel special with these little things. She locates the little piece of plastic that tells her how to care for the plant, reads it, and promptly shoves the plant away. She gets to her office door and finds him standing there, smirking.

“Drusia flowers? Really, Doctor? And that was a terrible pun on the card, by the way.” She pulls him into a hug. “Thank you.”

“Now don’t go doing anything crazy like, say, making tea with the pollen,” he says with a wink. “Or, if you do, make sure we’re near a bed, yeah?”

She goes back to her desk, grabs the plant, and brings it home with them.


End file.
